{written after studying Psalm 81}

We shall all fall.

We are all to die, because of our treason.
I look about me. They are all placid; they do not understand.
I shake one, then another.

“Do you not understand?” I cry. “I am doomed! You are doomed! We shall all die! We must get out, get free, get forgiveness!”

They all turn away, not understanding who they are, nor who our judge is. I know Him, and know He was just to condemn me. I know that I bear the guilt for my sin. Now I repent of it. But still someone must be punished for it; that is the law.

Desperation overtakes me. How did I ever think I could commit my heinous crime and go unpunished? But I no longer wish to think of my treason; it disgusts me.

Tehre was something in Him that made me hate it. It must have been how perfect and unblemished nad pure and clean He was, in contrast with my filth.

I want to be rid of my filth, but cannot clean myself – I have tried, yet still it remains.

I shake another. “Do you not understand? There must be some way out! You are going to die like this! Didn’t you hear His sentence?”

            Oh! how I need forgiveness! I cannot ask Him to revoke His judgment – He cannot do so, it would ruin His person and I would no longer desire Him for His purity. I must bear His wrath for my treason - for it was against Him and Him alone I sinned.

            I tremble. I cannot bear His wrath; it will crush me – I shall die.

            I am becoming violent in my desperation. I will cling to any hope of life, and push aside anything that hinders me. I must have life. I must be with Him – He is life.

            All around me, they have fallen.

            I will fall soon; I will die soon. My high position, my good works did not save me. He alone can save me.

            I fall to my knees, stretching out my hands toward Him.

            “Save me!”
            It is the final cry of a desperate, violent, sinner. There is no reason He should heed my cry. But I know there is love and mercy and grace in Him – love, mercy, and grace which I do not deserve and cannot receive because I must bear His wrath for my sin. I am His enemy. Why would He bless me?

            But I am lifted up. He lifts me from the pit. I look behind – and there in the pit is His Son. He has deserted His Son for me. I know He will not spare His wrath or lessen the punishment because the one receiving it is His Son.

            I weep.

            How can I ever understand it? How will I ever comprehend Him, my Savior?

            “The debt for your sin has been paide,” He says. “Rejoice, and do not be silent about my Son.”
            “Is He dead?”

            He shook His head. “Not for long. By my power He shall triumph over death.”

            “Why did you do it?” I asked.

            “So that my love and justice are not compromised. If you ever doubt my love, remember my Son.”

            “But why me?”

            “I save the worst to display my glory and power in them, to make them pure like myself.”

            I looked up at Him, and gratitude filled my whole being.

            Then He took me, His former enemy, and seated me at His table.

            “You are the chosen Bride of my Son,” He said. “He has paid the Bride price and betrothed Himself to you. We must prepare for the marriage feast, for the coming of the Lamb who was slain.”